


Heart-Shaped

by moodlighting



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 14:25:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9758768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodlighting/pseuds/moodlighting
Summary: “Do you wanna do it?”Damen startled, turning to his left. Standing close and maintaining very intense eye contact was a young man about his age. Damen managed to take in the plume of a faux fur coat collar, pale cheeks flushed pink by either the heat or the cold outside, and a blue bobble hat covering a blonde head of hair before the words caught up with him.“Ex-excuse me?” he sputtered.The man nodded toward the front of the store, where a bright red banner hung proudly above the registers.Damen read it out loud. “Hashtag pucker up for pizza?” The words were surrounded by pink pizza hearts.





	

Damen was down in the dumps. The smell of cheap, greasy Italian fare surrounding him wasn’t helping. God, he did not want to be seen like this. He didn’t think anyone he knew frequented this particular hole in the wall, but Damen kept his head down nonetheless, staring blankly at the game going unplayed on his phone, avoiding the eyes of everyone else standing in line.

Damen had never felt less like himself. It was Valentine’s Day, and he was waiting in a pizza shop, alone, to purchase a novelty heart-shaped one topping pizza, which he would then take back to his apartment, alone, to eat, alone. Maybe he was a sucker for buying into fake holidays invented by greeting card companies to begin with, but today, Damen felt like a complete loser. He probably hadn’t been single on Valentine’s Day since he hit puberty. A week ago, he would have had someone to share his novelty heart-shaped pizza with on Valentine’s Day, he couldn’t help but think.

With a deep sigh, Damen leaned back against the railing behind him, pocketing his phone so he couldn’t refresh Twitter again. He moved his frozen toes inside his socks and stared at the salt stains around the edges of his boots. The heat of the ovens had been a welcome relief when he’d first entered the shop, though the temperature was now verging on stifling underneath all the layers Damen was wearing. “That’s Amore” was playing on repeat from the speakers overhead, which was also grating on the nerves.

The staff in their matching black visors appeared indifferent, however. They had temporarily run out of the heart-shaped pizzas, it seemed, and the line was hardly moving at all now. Damen sighed again.

Time passed slowly. The line moved slower. Damen’s stomach growled. His heart felt heavy.

Behind him, a face appeared at the edge of his vision, leaning in from the opposite side of the railing.

“Do you wanna do it?”

Damen startled, turning to his left. Standing close and maintaining very intense eye contact was a young man about his age. Damen managed to take in the plume of a faux fur coat collar, pale cheeks flushed pink by either the heat or the cold outside, and a blue bobble hat covering a blonde head of hair before the words caught up with him.

“Ex-excuse me?” he sputtered.

The man nodded toward the front of the store, where a bright red banner hung proudly above the registers.

Damen read it out loud. “Hashtag pucker up for pizza?” The words were surrounded by pink pizza hearts.

“Buy a pizza, share a kiss with someone special, and you get a second pizza for free.” The man looked him up and down. “You seem to be single.”

Damen scowled. This is why he’d been trying to keep a low profile. “I don’t even know you,” he said, insulted. “How could you possibly -”

“Your phone background,” the man answered. “It’s you and a woman, isn’t it? You kept staring at the picture every time you opened your phone, looking miserable.” With an overconfident raise of his brow, “Your ex, I presume?”

Damen could only gape at him. The nerve of some people in this city - “Maybe she’s my sister,” Damen said, defensively.

An incredulous look.

“My...dead sister.”

A quirk of a smile pulled at the edge of the man’s mouth. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he replied, sounding particularly amused with himself.

Damen had to hold back a smile of his own. He forced himself to turn away from the stranger. Of course, he then had only the enormous red banner to look at. And despite himself, Damen found himself considering it. He’d never met this guy before in his life, and he hadn’t gone out to buy a pity pizza only to end up kissing a stranger. But then again, fifteen dollars was fifteen dollars.

Without turning to look at him again, Damen said, “Buy one get one free, you said?”

Apparently no further agreement on his part was necessary, because the man was already climbing neatly over the railing and inserting himself in line next to Damen. Ignoring the muttered grievances about cutting from those around them, the man offered Damen his hand. “I’m Laurent,” he said.

They stood close. Damen took his hand. It was warm in his palm. “Damen,” he said in return.

Laurent shook his hand once, nodded. Then, without blinking, “If you stick your tongue in my mouth I’ll punch you in the throat.”

Damen nodded too. “Noted.”

Laurent watched him carefully for a moment longer, then used a shift in the line to put some distance between them.

No longer separated by the railing, some of Laurent’s brashness seemed to fade away as they slowly moved toward to the check-out. They didn’t talk, and Damen felt too self-conscious to pull out his phone now, since Laurent had made it clear that everyone could tell he was sad and single this Valentine’s Day.

But the closer they got to the check-out, the antsier Damen became. Assuming the man in the trapper hat and the woman with the lavender hair would be ordering together, they were only a few minutes away from reaching the front. Yet Laurent seemed content to go on ignoring Damen entirely, diligently studying the menu board above their heads.

Damen couldn’t take it. “So...do you kiss strangers often?” he asked, shifting on his feet in an attempt to catch Laurent’s eye.

Slowly, Laurent met his gaze. “No,” he answered succinctly.

He didn’t elaborate. A long moment of awkward silence followed. Damen swallowed. His throat felt dry. “Why did you ask me then?”

Laurent’s eyes narrowed. “I couldn’t find a coupon online.”

Unexpectedly, Damen laughed. “Really?” he grinned.

“Fifteen dollars is a little steep for a pizza with half the slices missing, wouldn’t you say?” Laurent said. He gestured toward the Valentine’s Day advertisement plastered across the shop window. “A heart is _not_ the same size as a circle. That is a small pizza masquerading as a medium at best.”

Damen snorted. “Well now I think you’re just being -”

“Next!”

Damen’s mouth snapped shut over his argument, wide eyes finding the redheaded cashier now beckoning them forward.

With determination, Laurent stepped up to the counter, bringing Damen along with him by his coat sleeve.

Without feeling, “Welcome to Paprizzio’s, how can I help you,” the cashier rattled off.

“We will take two of the heart pizza specials, please,” said Laurent.

“And will you be sharing a kiss this evening,” the cashier replied, monotone.

“Yes we will.”

The cashier entered the coupon code and looked up from his register. Eric, his nametag said. Immediately, Damen wished he hadn’t read it. Eric was just staring at them, looking equally as disinterested as he sounded.

Damen and Laurent turned to each other. Damen gulped. Laurent’s eyes were very blue.

“Hands above the waist,” Laurent muttered.

Then, with one hand at the back of Damen’s neck, the other holding his lapel, Laurent pulled Damen close and brought their mouths together.

Damen’s eyes drifted shut. Laurent’s lips were warm beneath his own, pliant, but not seeking. Laurent didn’t move, holding himself completely stiff, and in response, Damen kept still as well, their lips pressed stoically together. It felt unnatural, but he didn’t want to make Laurent, who had already put boundaries in place, feel uncomfortable.

It made the first seconds of their kiss feel hours-long, however, the eyes of their audience and the weight of the awkward moment heavy between them. _How long does a free pizza kiss need to last?_ Damen wondered desperately. He needed to do something to make this easier on both of them.

Slowly, leaving Laurent time to step away from his touch if he wanted to, Damen drew his hand up to hold Laurent’s face in his palm. The skin of his cheek was soft, and as warm as it had looked. Damen passed his thumb across it gently, his fingers slipping into the hair below Laurent’s ear that had escaped from under his hat.

The kiss was hardly anything, a chaste display between strangers in a too-public place. Yet, as Damen instinctively parted his lips, moving his mouth cautiously against Laurent’s once more, he felt Laurent exhale a shallow breath, felt the tension holding him rigid fall away from his shoulders. Slowly, Laurent began to respond to his kiss, his lips sliding across Damen’s, their noses bumping.

Damen shivered. He could taste the smallest suggestion of mint, cool on Laurent’s lips. He wanted to open his mouth up to it. Mindful of Laurent’s wishes, however, he kept his lips closed. Still, Damen would not allow himself to waste this moment.

He took a small step closer; their chests brushed. With the barest touch of Damen’s fingers, Laurent allowed his head to be tilted up an inch, aligning their mouths at a better angle. Damen smoothed his hand down and away from Laurent’s face, down his side and around, where his palm came to rest just above the small of his back. _Hands above the waist,_ Laurent’s voice echoed in Damen’s head

Damen kissed him again. Even while _presently_ kissing Laurent, Damen already wanted to kiss him again. He wanted to know what a real kiss between them would be like, what this tension humming between them could become. He wanted to know what Laurent’s laugh sounded like. He wanted to see him without his winter hat on. He wanted -

“Okay.”

They broke apart, Laurent stepping abruptly away as Eric's voice intervened. Damen’s hands fell to his sides, empty. Heart pounding, he tried not to feel disappointed. When he opened his eyes, he found Laurent already staring at him. Damen’s heart pounded louder. Laurent’s cheeks were even more flushed than before. His lips were still parted.

Laurent had felt it too.

“That will be sixteen dollars and twenty cents.”

The moment drew out. Gathering himself, Laurent broke the intensity of their shared gaze to turn back to the counter. With steadier fingers than Damen would have been capable of in that moment, he pulled out cash and a quarter from his pockets. Eric gave him back a nickel and deposited the two pizza boxes, the receipt taped to the cardboard, into Laurent’s hands.

“Thank you for choosing Paprizzio’s, have a pleasant night. _Next!_ ”

Damen gritted his teeth at the sound of Eric’s voice, an unchanged monotone. As if he hadn’t just witnessed what had passed between him and Laurent!

Falling into step behind Laurent, they made their way around the line of waiting customers and headed toward the back of the shop. They passed empty tables on both sides of the aisle, and Damen began to worry. Laurent wasn't stopping at any of them. The glowing red EXIT signed loomed up ahead.

They walked in heavy silence. Damen didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what was happening, but he knew he didn’t want BOGO novelty pizzas to be the end of whatever it was. What it could be.

They reached the door.

Laurent turned to him. “Well,” he said. He handed Damen his greasy pizza box, bought and paid for with a kiss. “Thanks.” Laurent seemed to struggle with the words. “I’ll, uh. See you later?”

Damen stared at him. They didn’t know each other. They hadn’t exchanged phone numbers. He didn’t know Laurent’s last name. This city was big - they’d likely never see each other again.

“Y-yeah,” he said. He nervously sorted his fingers through his hair, leaving curls sticking up at odd angles on the back of his head. “Yeah.”

Laurent’s eyes lingered on his mussed hair before finally returning to his face. Then, nodding once, Laurent shrugged his coat up higher around his shoulders to protect his neck from the cold, and, with his heart-shaped pizza in his hands, backed out of the door and walked away.

The _woosh_ of icy air his exit brought inside was quickly absorbed by the stuffy heat of the pizza shop. The jangling bell above the door shook itself into silence, and from where Damen was still standing next to the window, he watched Laurent disappear from view.

Damen swore under his breath.

Putting his shoulder against the door, Damen shoved his way out of the building. Setting his mind against the bitter cold and his better judgement, he jogged - cognizant of the pizza shifting sloppily inside its box - in the direction Laurent had turned. A short distance away, he caught sight of the blue bobble of Laurent’s hat above the Valentine’s Day dinner crowd, now filling up the sidewalks.

“Laurent!” he called out. “Laurent!”

Yelling was no use. He jogged faster, determinedly tucking the pizza box under his arm. He wove his way around the couples dotting his path until finally, Laurent’s coat sleeve was in reach.

“Laurent,” he said again, giving it a tug.

Laurent whipped around to face him. By the look on his face he seemed surprised to see Damen, as if he’d expected someone else. He quickly wiped the expression away. “You followed me?” he demanded.

“Yeah - yeah I did. Sorry about that,” Damen winced. He was panting slightly.

Laurent raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Well? Did you want something?”

“Yeah, I just -” Damen sighed. “Look, I thought since -”

Making an assumption about where Damen was headed with this, Laurent took an immediate step back. “It was a free pizza, not an invitation,” he warned.

“No, no! Laurent, no, I’m not trying to -”

Damen heaved a frustrated sigh. His words weren’t coming out right. He needed to fix this. He needed that tense, nervous expression Laurent was trying to mask to disappear. He started again.

“Hey, I’ll turn around and walk away if you want me to, Laurent, no worries. You don’t owe me anything. I was just thinking...you know Maria’s, down on Seventh? They’re having a Valentine’s Day special too. If - if you go there with a date -” Laurent’s eyes narrowed, “- or a friend! Your mom even! Anyone!” Damen added quickly, with a placating gesture. “You get two free cannoli with the purchase of two drinks. Coffee, wine, soda. Whatever you want. And since, you know, we already have these pizzas -” he held up his slightly crushed pizza box, battered from him carrying it down the street like a running back, “- I thought we could try our luck there too.”

Laurent stared at him. Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, people pushed by them on both sides. After a long, seemingly endless pause, Laurent said, “Why?”

Damen shrugged, helpless. “I just love a good bargain.”

At that, a disbelieving smile slowly spread across Laurent’s face, and he began to laugh. He laughed loudly, delightedly. Damen couldn’t help but grin at the sound of it. It was lovely.

“I don’t believe you!” Laurent said, still laughing. “You didn’t even know about hashtag pucker up for pizza!”

“Okay, fine,” Damen laughed too. “But I owe you eight bucks anyway, for my half of the pizza. You didn’t have to pay for the whole thing, I was just going to pay full price for mine anyway. And the kiss was your idea,” he pointed out.

Laurent’s bright smile faded a notch at the reminder of the kiss they’d shared. Clearing his throat, he said, “What do I get if I do go to Maria’s with you?”

“One free cannoli and a beverage of your choice,” Damen said.

Laurent watched him, as he first had in the pizza shop, with that hesitancy about him. It was a moment of consideration, Damen realized. A decision being made.

“And no obligations,” Damen said. Softly, “It can just be a free pizza kiss.”

The quirk of Laurent’s smile returned. Under the streetlamp, Damen watched as his shoulders began to relax, his grip on his pizza box loosening. “So you don’t want to kiss me again?” he said, with a wry look.

Damen met his eyes and didn’t look away, silently letting him know that he meant what he said: “Only if you want me to.”

Their gaze held for a long moment. Their breath, rising in white, wispy clouds into the cold air, was the only thing that came between them. Finally, Laurent’s smile returned in full, and he peered over his shoulder to check what intersection they were at. It was Fifth and Roberts.

Laurent looked back at Damen, “Maria’s on Seventh street, you said?”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day everyone!
> 
> [fic post](http://mooodlighting.tumblr.com/post/157266117595/heart-shaped) \- [twitter](https://twitter.com/damen_ebooks)


End file.
